A Story for Halloween

My Dad is what is known as a straight arrow. He doesn't drink, smoke or do drugs. He was a boy scout and a fighter pilot. He doesn't have much of an imagination and is usually all business. If you knew him, you wouldn't think that he was the type of person who believes in ghosts or UFOs (flying saucers). But he does.

Here's why he believes in UFOs:

My dad joined the US Air Force, then known as the Army Air Corps, near the end of World War II. He became a fighter pilot and remained in the Air Force after the war ended.

Since most fighter pilots were no longer needed, my dad started to fly transport planes (big planes which carried cargo). Some of his flights took place at night.

One night, my dad was flying something called an RD-4 from Los Angeles to Marin. He was flying over the ocean near the Marin Headlands when he looked out his window and saw an orange ball just off the plane's wing. He nudged his co-pilot, a guy named Rice.

"What's that?" my dad asked.

"I don't know," said Rice, "Maybe it's a jet."

"Can't be a jet," my dad replied, "it doesn't have running lights, it's too close and it looks like a ball..."

Just as Rice was about to reply, the ball flashed from orange to white. It was so bright that both pilots had to shield their eyes. Then, the ball pulsed back to orange, then to white again.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it dropped straight down, made a sharp right turn, flew towards the hills, made a sharp left turn, flew along the hills then went straight up and disappeared into the night.

"@#$%!" shouted my dad, "Ever see a jet fly like that?"

"I don't know what the %$#@ that was," said Rice, "but it wasn't a jet."

"Should we call it in?" asked my dad.

"And say what?" said Rice, "that we saw a white ball that can turn on dime and fly a million miles an hour? They'll never let us fly again!"

They never called it in, but the next day people kept asking my dad what happened to him.

That's because both he and Rice had sunburned faces.